Home
by Kitty O
Summary: Merlin's returned after two years, but not in a state that anyone expected. But home isn't really home again until everyone can come to terms with the way it all ended.
1. Chapter 1

"Two years today," Gwen muttered, staring down at the baby she held in her lap. He was only a little over a year old; he could babble a couple of discernible words, and he looked as though he understood some of what Guinevere said to him. He could walk, however, and he spent most of the time in her lap trying to wriggle away and go look at things. Occasionally, during a council meeting or something, she would let him run loose. He would toddle about pulling the robes of the more distinguished men. He liked to grin at the servants who stood along the edges of the room. And Sir Percival was a special favorite of his.

But today she held him in her lap, because some of the people grew annoyed with him. Besides, the doors were open. And he was her baby and he was cute and therefore she would hold him.

Technically, she supposed, she should leave him with a nurse. However, she felt it was good for the people to see exactly why they were allowing an ex-peasant girl to rule the kingdom; because she was raising the only son of the Golden King, and someday he would be king. Besides, the last noble who had tried to incite a rebellion against her had been swiftly executed. Guinevere had a pretty face and a kind smile, but she was a queen and she would not be trifled with.

"I wonder if they'll say anything," she said to the baby.

He gurgled in irritation that he wasn't being put down.

The people were beginning to file into her council chambers, going to take their seats at the round table. Guinevere sat at the seat Arthur used to fill. As he passed, Sir Leon took a moment to put a hand on her shoulder and smile supportively.

"Well," Gwen said to the baby as he looked up at her. "Looks as though Leon remembers, huh?"

"Down," said the baby.

"No," said the mother.

As the men (mostly older men – a meeting of knights looked entirely different… Still, Leon and Percival were always invited to these on principle) took their seats, Guinevere sat up straighter, pulling the baby closer.

"I would like to thank you all for coming," said Guinevere as she looked out over the men.

"Ooh!" shouted the baby as he leapt forward, trying to wrap his pudgy little fist around Griflet's jeweled amulet.

"And Arthur here would like to thank you as well," Guinevere added dryly.

There was general laughter.

"As you might know, it has been two years since I have taken the throne, and I have had to make some changes in those years." Two years, thought Gwen. Two years since Arthur was declared dead.

Two years, thought Percival. Two years since Gwaine had crumbled in his arms and died, neither embattled nor drunk – exactly as he would not have wanted.

Two years, thought Gaius. Two year since Merlin simply never came back.

"But I think," Guinevere said, "that we have made real progress, and we should all be proud."

Polite applause.

"We do, however, have some general –"

_BOOM_. A whooshing sound rushed through the air, and sudden wind blew Guinevere's hair all about her face. Someone squawked. Both Percival and Leon went for their swords and jumped from their seats.

There, not far from the table, near the corner of the room, a sudden tornado rose from the ground, sending papers flying and roaring in everyone's ears. Gwen clutched the baby close, rising from her seat – if it was an attacker, she was ready to run.

But what else could it be? Magic might have been legalized, but it was still frowned upon to enter a private meeting in such a way, naturally. If this wasn't an attack, wouldn't they come through the door?

But just as suddenly as the wind started, it stopped, and suddenly there was a new figure in the room – a figure huddled on the floor as though trying to rise to its feet, head bowed. His hair was longer than Guinevere remembered, and he was covered in dirt. He was missing the neckerchief and he looked thinner. And he was obviously sporting at least one or two injuries, judging by the red.

Guinevere held Arthur even closer as she gasped, "Merlin?"

Merlin coughed weakly.

Percival had dropped his sword and was already at Merlin's side, one hand on the man's shoulder, assessing his health and asking quiet questions. "Merlin?" said the large man. "Can you hear me? Are you hurt?"

Merlin struggled to rise and Percival put one oversized shoulder to the task of helping. Merlin lifted his face – bloodshot blue eyes, flitting around. He was breathing hard. He was barely awake.

"What happened?" Guinevere said (mostly to herself), and she handed her child to Leon. "Leon, take Arthur, bring him to his nurse. Gaius, prepare your chambers – Percival and I will make sure he gets there."

Gaius (eyes filled with something wet, stumbling his way, but professional as ever) made for the door.

And over in the corner, Merlin looked up at Percival, and his eyes lit up. "Percival," he whispered.

"It's me," Percival agreed out loud, though he'd already spoken more than was customary for him.

"I'm home. Hey, Percival, hey, guess what," Merlin chuckled weakly. "I'm immortal."

And then he collapsed, unconscious, into the larger man's grip.

"Meeting dismissed until further notice," Guinevere announced almost shrilly as she nearly ran over to the two men.

Meanwhile Leon adjusted the baby as comfortably as he could on his chainmail, let the child coo, and said to the wriggling thing, "That's Merlin. Don't worry, you'll like him."

* * *

**A/N: I have an image of the entirety of Camelot somehow being nursemaids for Gwen when she needs to pass off baby Arthur for a bit. Also, feedback. I'm not sure if I'll update, or how much, or when, though if I do I know where I want the story to go. So let me know what you think please. **


	2. Chapter 2

"How is he, Gaius?"

Arthur was with his nurse and Guinevere was hovering outside of the physician's office, wringing her hands in a way reminiscent of the servant girl she no longer was.

"He is injured, milady. He has several bruises and lacerations – his back and arms especially are in danger of becoming infected. However, there are no new head wounds, and he should come around any time now."

"When he wakes up, may I talk to him?"

"Of course, milady."

Gaius looked older (always, always did he look older), and he looked tired, but there was now a new hope in his eyes that Guinevere had dearly missed. He had stopped cooking two meals' worth of food a year ago.

"Gaius, what do you think happened to him? Where has he been?" She looked at Percival, who sat silently in the corner, as though he might know.

"We shall have to wait for Merlin himself to furnish us with those answers," Gaius said. "I have to collect more herbs from the market, but if you wish to stay with him –"

"Of course I will, Gaius."

Gaius cast another look around his cluttered workplace, hoping to find a reason to stay, and then, finding none, slipped out of the door. Guinevere immediately made her way to the stool by the patient's bed and sat down beside her long-lost friend. Black hair, white face, same as always. But so different from her life now. Merlin hadn't been part of her life for two long years, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"I see him in my dreams sometimes," Guinevere said, and Percival looked up. "Whenever I dream about Arthur, he tends to be tagging along as always. He's been getting fuzzier though. I'd nearly forgotten those cheekbones – I'd started thinking he was just a dream." She stared at Merlin, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. Was she going to cry? Why? It was two years ago. She'd begun putting it all away in the back of her mind.

But seeing Merlin was like a slap in the face with the reality that no longer existed.

"I've started forgetting Arthur's face, too," she admitted. "Oh," she said with exasperation, and put her face down as tears began to leak out. She wasn't an easy crier anymore, but she didn't feel like the queen of Camelot right now.

Percival shifted uncomfortably, and then, before she could cry in earnest: "He's a sorcerer."

Gwen sniffed and wiped her eyes, grateful that he had let her save face. "He is. Didn't I mention it?"

"We guessed," Percival said.

"How long ago?"

Percival shrugged. He wasn't much for carrying on conversations anymore. He'd always been quiet, but it had been so much worse since Camlann. He would start a topic, only to grow bored and stop talking. She'd only noticed after Arthur was born, but she'd fancied he was getting better. (Merlin's return must have reminded more people than just her.)

"I guessed too," she said. "Gaius implied it, whenever he told me – about Arthur being injured, being with a sorcerer… And I just knew that Merlin wouldn't let anyone else protect my husband while he was available." She sniffed, hard. "So I figured it was time to change those laws. I think he was the old man who saved our lives and who Arthur contacted about his father."

Percival didn't seem surprised. "He threw us around like potato sacks."

Guinevere laughed. "He helped bring me back to myself when I was enchanted. I think he cured my father once."

Percival nodded. "The immortal army. Maybe he had friends in Camelot who helped."

"I thought that too. I thought if there was a whole web of magicians in Camelot protecting us, they'd come out once I changed the law. But overall, most magic users moved in; they didn't already live here." She paused. "It'll be nice to ask him. What did he say to you?"

Percival looked alarmed. "Pardon?"

"Before he passed out. What did he say?"

There was an awkward pause, and if Gwen had cared to look at the knight's face, she would have seen that he was really thinking about his answer.

"Nothing," he said at last. "Just gibberish."

Merlin groaned.

Both of their attentions snapped to the man, and the queen was on her feet in a moment. "Merlin? Merlin?"

"I'm awake," he mumbled. "Oh, gods, I'm awake." He groaned again and opened his eyes to see the queen standing over him in a dress he'd never seen before. "Gwen," he said.

"Merlin!"

"What happened?" he asked.

"You appeared in the throne room in a tornado, and then you collapsed. We brought you here – Gaius said you'll be fine."

Merlin's eyes flew open. "I used magic? But… You don't even…"

"It's quite alright, Merlin. We know now. Magic is legalized here."

Merlin's eyebrows drew together. "Whose idea was that? Arthur is going to kill—" He froze mid-sentence, and all the color he'd resumed fled from his face. "Oh, gods," he said. "Oh, gods." He leapt from his bed and nearly collapsed onto the floor, his face turned desperately toward the queen. "He's dead. Arthur's dead. He's dead, Guinevere… I'm so sorry… It's my fault, I'm so sorry; I wasn't in time… He's dead. He died…"

"Percival!" Gwen ordered the knight in a sharp voice, and immediately the man leapt up and came to grab Merlin and keep the sorcerer on his feet. Merlin struggled.

"Let go," he said. "Let go. I'm going to be sick."

Gwen managed to get the bucket to him in time, and Merlin promptly collapsed to his knees, still staring, still white. "I'm sorry," he said again, but Gwen didn't think he was truly talking to her.

"It's okay, Merlin," she said. "It's okay. We got your message. We know."

Merlin looked up. "We were going to make it," he swore. "But Morgana came. I killed her…" He looked green again. "But it was too late. What will they all say? It's all my fault."

"Everyone knows, Merlin. No one blames you."

"Everyone? Already? But I only sent my message yesterday."

Percival and Guinevere met eyes. "Merlin," she said at last. "You sent that message two years ago. When Arthur died. Was there another message?"

"Arthur died yesterday."

"Merlin, I don't…"

He looked so confused. There was red in his eyes, and he looked so thin. Gwen wanted to reach out and touch him. "Arthur died yesterday," Merlin said. "He died. I put him in the lake, and I gave him back his sword, and I went and got Morgana and put her by the lake, and then I sent the message and started home… And woke up here. I must have forgotten that I teleported… How did I forget that?"

"It must be brain-addling," Percival said, by way of explanation.

Merlin looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together and bewilderment. "I don't know how to teleport," he said. "I don't know how."

"Merlin, you've been missing for two years. We haven't heard from you since we received your note."

Merlin looked back at Guinevere. "That's not true."

"I wouldn't lie to you," she said, trying not to be offended.

He stared at her with blank eyes, then, shaking his head slowly. He was so white that she could more plainly see the bruises on his jaw and neck. "Look at yourself, Merlin," Guinevere said. "You appeared this morning like this. You're injured, Merlin. What happened?"

Merlin looked at his arms, twitched and winced and stared around like a lost child. There were tears in his eyes. "I… Two years. I'm going to be sick again." He jerked and wrapped his fists around the bucket's rim, leaning over it and retching. Guinevere turned away to allow him some privacy. Therefore, she didn't realize that Merlin had passed out until Percival let out a strangled call.

She turned back around to see that Percival had his arms wrapped around Merlin's torso and was holding the man up.

Guinevere sighed. "Put him back on the bed, Percival. Thank you. Gaius is going to be angry at us, I believe. Perhaps we should not have wound him up." Percival did as she said, tilting Merlin's head to the side in case he was sick again. He grabbed a towel, and, more tenderly than Gwen had ever seen him be, he wiped Merlin's face.

Guinevere let him be for several minutes as both caught their breath. Silence filled the room except for the sound of heavy breathing, and there was a silent communication between queen and knight – this was bad, and they both knew it. Merlin in tears; Merlin not knowing where he had been for two years…

_He's just exhausted,_ Percival thought. _He isn't permanently addled._

As for what Gwen was thinking on the matter, he couldn't possibly tell. Her face wasn't readable as it once was. "Percival," she said, "Run and briefly let Gaius know what happened. Don't alarm him."

"Yes, Your Highness," he said, and he bowed and left the room.

Guinevere then sat quietly for several minutes before she walked over to Merlin's side, reseating herself by the warlock's side, and looking at him with pity in her eyes. Her pain was nearly numb now, as it should be after two years, but it seemed to him to have happened yesterday. And she remembered distinctly the heart-searing agony that had taken up her body for the first few days. All of them had suffered, but they had suffered together. Now there was Merlin, suffering alone – even though he must have suffered already. Poor man. Poor, loyal man.

What had _happened_ to him? He looked as though he'd been roughed up quite a bit, and not in any playful tussle. She almost believed that someone had hurt him – but who could possibly overcome the warlock that Gaius had described to her? Her heart was full, and she could not keep herself from leaning forward and running her fingers through his hair.

Silence fell once more as she took in the once-familiar sight of Merlin lying unconscious in front of her, and she thought about laughing as a memory flitted across her mind. She had stood her with tears rolling down her face, and Merlin's heart had stopped, and she'd thrown herself into Gaius – and then she'd kissed her friend. Sweet, quiet Gwen had had such a crush! Only to fall in love later with a man who wasn't better, but certainly different than the one lying here.

_We were so young. _

Merlin shifted uncomfortably, and Gwen began to think that he was not unconscious anymore, but simply asleep. "Gaius will come take care of you," she told the man even though he could not hear her.

"Oh, Merlin," Guinevere said. "It's very different now, but I am glad to have you home."


	3. Chapter 3

When Merlin next woke, he was calmer.

Actually, he admitted to himself, he felt empty. There was a hole in his chest where the strong, warm assurance of Arthur's existence had once existed. It wasn't the same world anymore, and in truth, Merlin could have raged at its pretensions, acting like it always had, for hours if he'd had the energy. He did not have the energy. Arthur was gone and Merlin was injured, and there was no point in not being calm.

Guinevere wasn't there anymore, but Percival was standing over him, more muscular than ever, and silent. Merlin couldn't help but smile – for he had a vague feeling in the back of his mind that he had missed Percival. Which was silly, because he'd seen the man only several days ago, hadn't he?

No, he remembered. That had been two years ago.

"Percival," he said, and Percival seemed to start. Merlin wasn't sure that he'd known that the warlock was awake before this.

"You're awake," Percival said, smiling.

"Yeah. Is it just you on watch? Where are the others?"

"Gaius is making rounds, and the queen is busy."

"I mean the other knights."

"Leon is training."

Merlin struggled to sit up. "Gwaine?"

Silence.

Merlin laughed as he looked up at Percival. "What, is he drinking again, or do you not know? I thought he'd…" There was no emotion on Percival's face and yet Merlin could read it anyway. "Where's Gwaine?" he asked again, but this time there was real concern in his voice. "Is he okay?"

Percival looked silently at the ceiling, seemed to let the words feel their way out of his throat, and then he said, "Gwaine's dead."

Merlin's face fell.

"How?"

"Morgana."

Merlin turned dull and confused eyes onto him.

"Two years," Percival said. "Only several days before we received your note."

The last time Merlin had seen Gwaine, they'd lingered over goodbye a little, with the feeling between them (at least Merlin believed they both felt it) that this was the last time they would speak. Only, Merlin had thought that _he_ might be the causality, not the knight.

The last time Merlin had seen Gwaine, the knight had saved his life. He would have died without the other man there to fight for him. Gwaine with his easy smile and that hair he liked to flip out of his way.

"Did he go down fighting?"

Percival stared at the warlock for several seconds, remembering easily the first time he had met Gwaine, when the knight had stuck to Merlin and Arthur like glue, like they were his first friends. And he remembered – _I've failed. _

"Yes," Percival said. "Nearly got her, too."

Merlin closed his eyes in pain, but the feeling just resonated in the empty cavern in his body. The size of his previous agony reduced it to an echo. Percival, for his part, was well used to the grief, and watched Merlin closely, trying to be sure that the man was not about to fly apart as he'd done when he remembered Arthur's death.

"I should have been there," Merlin said.

_Me too. _"We were all where we had to be," Percival said.

Merlin opened his eyes and looked at Percival, then sighed. "Maybe, but that doesn't make it easier, does it?"

Percival dropped the conversation.

By the time Gaius came back, Merlin was sitting up on the bed.

"Don't worry," he called with a (only a bit forced) smile as Gaius walked in. "I'm being careful not to break the scabs."

"My boy," Gaius immediately responded, but it seemed as though he hadn't thought the rest of that thought through, because after he said it, he just looked at Merlin with a smile slowly spreading.

Percival didn't make a sound as he excused himself.

Gaius's face immediately cleared and he looked professional as he walked towards the edge of the room, facing away from Merlin. "I think you've mostly avoided infection," he said with a clear voice. "I believe you fell, probably multiple times, judging by your arms. Queen Guinevere says that you don't remember much, so I rechecked you for a head wound, but found none. Hopefully this will fix itself, and I urge you not to push it… As for your back—"

"Someone whipped me, didn't they? I can feel it."

"Most likely." Gaius looked a little disconcerted. "Also…"

"Gaius," Merlin interrupted him.

"What is it, my boy?"

Merlin shifted and grunted, trying to secure his seat, and then he nodded at Gaius. "Come here," he said, and Gaius came towards him.

Merlin opened his arms and embraced the old man, resting his head on Gaius's shoulder. He could feel the old man relaxing as he held on, so he didn't let go, just let Gaius hug him back. He'd missed Gaius. (He felt as though he thought he'd never see him again – but no, when would he have been thinking that?) But more than that, he knew Gaius had been missing him. It had been two years with no word. And Merlin knew how much he meant to Gaius.

A small tremor went through Gaius.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," he said, and he laughed. "I don't know where I was, but I'm sorry I didn't send word."

"Merlin," said Gaius, stepping away, "I don't know why I ever let you out of my sight."

* * *

Percival made his way slowly through the castle, thinking furiously. From the outside, he naturally looked the same as ever – his expression rarely changed except for when he was laughing or when he was fighting. He didn't get much of either done in the last while.

Despite his blank expression, his mind was racing.

Two years ago, Percival's world had changed wildly. He had seen people die before, obviously. His whole family – including his wife – had been lost to Morgana's evil. Lancelot had died and taken his friendship with him – only to return, take no notice of his good friend, act in a way most un-Lancelot like, and die again. Elyan went crazy. Elyan returned to normal. Elyan was captured along with Gwaine, and then they saved a malnourished Gwaine and a pain-stricken Gwaine. (It took a week or so, but eventually Elyan came clean and told a horrified Percival about his experience.) Mordred came. Elyan died. Guinevere began acting strangely, but he'd written that off as grief, until it suddenly stopped and he had not been given an explanation. Mordred left.

But it had all happened in bits and pieces, and so as much as it hurt to lose friends, Percival had been able to pull his head up and get closer to whoever was left – Leon and Gwaine, namely.

But then they'd lost Arthur, who had given Percival something to fight for. And they'd lost Mordred, when only weeks before they had been teasing the new knight about his greenness. Countless others (friends, strangers) had been cut down, and Merlin had gone missing.

And then Gwaine.

Percival didn't like thinking about Gwaine, didn't like thinking about how he'd failed the man, or how he'd gotten himself stuck when he could have been ripping apart Morgana with his bare hands. Didn't like thinking about Leon's and the queen's grief, about the burns that Gaius had to treat on Percival's arms. And he really didn't like thinking about the sadness in Gwaine's eyes when he told Percival that he failed.

Percival wasn't the kind of person to indulge in self-loathing, or to succumb to pure feeling, but he couldn't deny the shame when he remembered that he had been too _slow_ to respond, too slow to give Gwaine one last moment of peace before the man's eyes closed forever.

Gwaine _hadn't_ failed. Elyan had told Percival all about that torture, long before he'd gotten to hear Gwaine's screams. You couldn't resist that kind of pain. You lost your mind. You forgot yourself. It wasn't anything you did on purpose – it was _magic_. The still-illegal type. Gwaine had died from it; it was obvious he held out even longer than Elyan had, and no one ever accused Elyan of failing, even though his speaking had cost the village of Ealdor. It wasn't Gwaine's fault.

And Percival hadn't told him that.

Percival shook his head to get himself back on track, and set himself on a forward course again.

Two years ago, his life had changed wildly. Everyone in it had changed because of it. And this new life did not include Merlin.

So now Merlin was back – mostly back – and didn't remember where he had been. Accepting him back in would not be a problem, mostly. It did seem to be bringing back… painful memories. But not a problem. Perhaps it would make Guinevere happier. She did seem to become harsher as ruler, something Arthur had mostly been able to avoid. But then, Guinevere was a woman with much opposition to her rule. And Arthur had been the heir to Uther. Besides, Arthur had Merlin to confide in.

Now, Guinevere could talk to someone other than Leon, who was a helpful man – but a little too proper to help in the way the queen needed.

Despite all the good that could come of this, Percival was worried.

Worried because since Merlin had come, Percival had lied twice. Once, to the queen. He'd told Merlin that Gwaine died fighting, when in truth Gwaine died tied up and trapped and hurting. And he'd told Guinevere that Merlin hadn't said anything before he collapsed.

"_I'm immortal."_

What the hell did it mean? Was Merlin actually immortal? Was he trying to say something? Or had he lost his mind?

And what did it mean, Merlin appearing out of nowhere after two years, obviously exhausted, possibly tortured, with no memory? The memory part concerned him the most.

He had talked to Elyan, in detail, about how it could hurt so bad that you forgot yourself and it wasn't your fault, how it left you exhausted and desperate.

Percival was going to talk to Queen Guinevere.

He walked through the hall, with his sword banging against his leg, thinking absentmindedly (on top of his other concerns) that it was cold in this castle and he should probably get shirts with sleeves to wear under his chainmail. Of course, then he would have to wear sleeves on his chainmail.

The queen was in the throne room, not in her room, though she was mostly alone. There was one other person with her – some lord. Percival only knew the man's name well enough to mumble it and have it pass as a greeting. There was a P sound in the beginning, and it ended on a hard note. He was a handsome man, though aging, with his hair a little too greasy. He'd come to Camelot several months after Camlann. His father had died in the fighting. Percival, incidentally, hated him, because he'd once made a comment about Guinevere, her peasant background, and her pregnancy. Percival had, at the time, pulled him aside, and told him emotionlessly that if the queen didn't have him drawn and quartered for that, then he, Percival, would kill him.

(Percival had a child once. She was a little girl and she liked to cling to his giant leg and call him "Papa".)

The man had since come to respect Guinevere, but Percival never liked him. He thought it was a shame that neither Gwaine nor Merlin was around to make irreverent comments about his greasy hair.

"I'm sorry," Percival said. "I'll step out."

"No," Guinevere said, and her hard, dark face made it clear that she was angry. "No, I'll be done in a minute. I was just asking the lord if he'd never met Lord Agravaine."

"I have not, Your Majesty."

"He was Arthur's uncle. A story for another time, I believe. For now, sir, let me assure you that Merlin has been close to the Pendragon family for more than a decade, and is as trusted as any of my knights or nobles – and more than some." Her tilted eyebrow let the man know he had been chastised. "I thank you for your concern. Is that all?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, I believe so."

"Thank you. Now please excuse me, I believe Sir Percival was seeking an audience."

The man bowed and walked out of the room, his eyes set straight ahead in a manner that spoke of embarrassment.

Guinevere turned a smile onto Percival and went to sit in her throne, her curls (longer than they'd ever been) washing over the shoulder of her favorite red dress. Arthur had bought it for her. Percival watched her but didn't say anything.

"Merlin is doing alright?"

"He's awake again. Talking to Gaius."

"Good." She cast her eyes towards the door. "He wanted to bring me his concerns that we don't know where Merlin's been for two years. He thinks we may have a spy on our hands."

Percival nodded. Guinevere sighed – talking to Percival was like talking to oneself sometimes. "Did you come to speak to me about something?"

"I did, Your Majesty. As a friend."

"Percival, you're one of my oldest." _The older friends are dead, after all, _he thought. "You may speak freely."

"He may be right. We may have a spy on our hands."

Guinevere chuckled dryly. "I know," she said. "I thought of it too. I just didn't want him to think I had – if word gets around… It's a little too similar to Morgana." She sighed. "And to me."

"I think he's been tortured," Percival said. "Those were whip marks. And he insists he remembers nothing."

"I know. I do know. But I will not lock him up. We have no proof, and he's clearly just back from a traumatizing experience. That would do no one any good."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

She smiled at him. "I know you weren't suggesting it. Nonetheless we do need to keep an eye on him. I'm going to be asking you and Sir Leon to watch him whenever possible. He trusts the two of you, and it won't look strange. I don't want him to feel threatened – I don't want him to leave. But even if he is as fine as he seems to think he is, I want him to be monitored. He's not stable, and if his memories come back, I don't want him hurting himself or anyone else."

"Yes."

"I'll speak to Leon separately," Guinevere said, looking around the throne room and then sighing. Her brown eyes looked sad. She was thinking something, wistfully. There was a day when she would have had an abundance of people to tell. "No one is to know, of course. Also, I must ask you to do me a favor. When you return to Gaius, make certain that word has been sent to Hunith of Ealdor about Merlin's appearance. She may already know, but I am a mother now. It opens your eyes."

"Yes, I will do so immediately."

"Thank you. Now, unless you have something else…"

"One last thing," he said uncomfortably. "Even if he… even if he _is, _it isn't his fault… Merlin was always the most loyal—" Percival didn't know how to say it, which was strange, because he usually didn't speak until he knew what words to use. "Your brother told me about things like this, and it isn't that he would mean to betray Camelot…"

She saved him. "Percival, I will never think of Merlin as anything but a friend. He will be treated with all the compassion he deserves, I promise you. Thank you for your concern for our friend. You may be dismissed."

Somehow, when she said words like that to him, it sounded like an upbraiding and more sincere. Percival was extremely grateful, and he bowed his blond head. "Thank you, Your Majesty."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm really pleased so far that most of you don't have a problem with my Guinevere. She's very different than she used to be – a kind woman, but in the show she seemed much more "just" as a queen than "kind". With the difficulty of her job, I think that slightly harsher attitude would get more rather than lesser. I also thought that I should take a chance to thank you all for your kind feedback. It keeps me going.**

* * *

Leon came by and visited several times. He seemed much the same as he always had, though perhaps a little more friendly, and slightly more prone to staring at Merlin as if he was a dream.

Percival seemed to be around whenever Leon wasn't, though he didn't do much talking. It was still good to see him, even though his presence reminded Merlin again that Gwaine was dead. It was sort of starting to sink in, but it still seemed so impossible. How was Merlin supposed to deal with it while Arthur's death was still fresh in his mind?

Guinevere, darling girl, she stopped by whenever she had the chance. She was a busy woman now, but she made time for an old friend. She didn't remind him so forcefully of Gwaine, which was nice. Arthur, maybe, but then, everything reminded him of Arthur, didn't it?

There was a sort of tension between the lot of them. Something they weren't telling him. Merlin couldn't help but wonder if perhaps they knew more than he did about what had happened in the last two years – because he had no memory. He'd thought perhaps that would be slept off, but it turned out not to be the case. Merlin didn't remember how he'd acquired the bruises or the severe exhaustion or the whip marks on his back – probably didn't want to remember. But the thought that they remembered and he didn't made him nervous. He trusted them, he really did, but something was going on and it bugged him. So he immediately told himself that he was imagining it.

Gaius was a relief to him, because the man showed none of the tension, just the honest concern of a physician and the affection of a friend.

Somewhere around the third time he woke up, and was actually able to stay awake, it occurred to him to check on the Dragon. Gaius wouldn't let him out of the chambers, though, insisting that he was still healing and that he could tell the warlock was exhausted. Merlin asked if he could go out in two days. He wasn't willing to wait longer.

Gaius opened his mouth to argue.

"Gaius," Merlin said. "I've lost more friends than I can count already. I'm going to check up on one of my oldest no matter what you say."

Merlin had always been strong-minded, independent, disobedient… But that straightforward defiance towards his father figure was new. He didn't care what Gaius said, Gaius could see that now. In asking for permission he was being polite.

Usually he at least pretended he was going to obey. Something there had changed.

"Two days," Gaius agreed.

Merlin grinned. "Thanks," he said. "We don't want to argue – Guinevere's about to walk in."

"What makes you say that, Merlin?" Gaius asked, lifting that famous eyebrow. Thinking back, he remembered that Merlin had been glancing at the door every so often.

"Percival left almost five minutes ago; Leon is busy this afternoon, and they never leave me alone for longer than this."

Gaius looked so honestly surprised that Merlin felt guilty for being so brusque with him. "They're watching me," he told the old man, not quite believing that Gaius hadn't noticed.

Gaius hadn't noticed. Which wasn't usual for him, but he was getting old, and aside from that, he'd been quite tied up with a mixture of joy and worry recently. But he didn't really have time to doubt Merlin properly before Guinevere walked in the room, holding Arthur on her hip.

* * *

Guinevere was late to enter, but she figured that even if Merlin were to decide to get up to trouble, there wasn't much he could do in five minutes.

Leon had been arguing with her.

He hadn't started by arguing. He really wouldn't dare. But he felt quite strongly that perhaps the queen should rethink her decision to bring in Arthur to meet Merlin so soon after Merlin's return.

He listed various reasons, including his fear that seeing how different Camelot was now would upset the warlock. But Guinevere could see his fear for her in his face.

"Are you trying to suggest," she asked him when he paused, "that if Merlin is indeed compromised, it would be dangerous to have him know about my son?"

"It would make sense to be wary," Leon said, but she could see the words hurt him. That was one thing that kept her irritation at bay. She had come to dislike being questioned in the past few years, but she knew well that she needed advice to be a good queen. Here, though, she could see Leon's earnestness, and knew he did not mean to insult her old friend, and so she remained gentle.

"Leon, he will find out soon anyway. Don't worry, I thought of that too, but I feel that it is better to tell him on our time. And he's our friend. Perhaps I want to trust him too badly…" She let herself trail off.

"No, no, Your Majesty. I don't mean he can't be trusted."

"But you're still concerned. I appreciate that."

Guinevere let the silence fester for just a minute, knowing that Leon was thinking and not wanting to cut his budding thoughts off. At last, though, she adjusted the baby she held, and said, "Sir Leon, if you can look at me and tell me that you think that _Merlin_ would be willing to hurt Arthur's child, then I'll hold off the visit. Can you do that?"

Leon had that open-mouth look when he was thinking very hard or when he was shocked. "Of course I can't," he said.

She hadn't thought he could.

"Thank you," she said, as if she hadn't known what his answer was going to be. She smiled at him kindly as she walked away.

* * *

"A baby," said Merlin, sitting up and immediately smiling so widely that Gaius would never guess at the suspicion he had just hinted he possessed.

"This," Guinevere said, holding up the curly-headed baby with her brown eyes, "is Arthur."

If Guinevere hadn't been watching for it, she wouldn't have seen the pain flash in Merlin's eyes.

"Yours?" he asked, still smiling.

"Yes, I found out I was pregnant shortly after you left."

"So he's a little more than a year old, is he?" Merlin held out his arms to embrace the child, and Guinevere felt herself smiling. She held out Arthur, who was only too happy to get out of his mother's arms for a bit – and then realized that he was being held by a stranger and stared shyly at the warlock. "And to think I missed your first steps."

"That's right," Guinevere said, smiling as she watched Merlin's eyes light up as he gently bounced Arthur up and down. She could tell she'd made the right choice.

"Guinevere, I love him," Merlin told her, looking up. He looked happier than he'd seemed since he returned home.

Guinevere nodded and looked at her baby, who was starting to smile at Merlin's funny hair and bright eyes. "He'll start crying any second," she warned, but inwardly she was happy. That was something she'd always wished she'd be able to hear Arthur say – _I love him_. Hearing Merlin say it wasn't at all the same thing, but it was something.

* * *

Merlin meant to wait two days, and he made it through one before his worry overcame him.

He was lying in his bed, trying to sleep, glad that Gaius had let him move to his own room – which was still waiting for him after all this time.

He'd managed to push all of his worry to the back of his mind that day and the night before, but it really couldn't be bullied anymore, and suddenly it seemed to erupt in his chest. Kilgharrah. What if he was dead? When Merlin had seen him last (or at least as far as he remembered), he had been old. Old and apparently dying.

If he was dead, had Merlin been with him at the last?

_Must I lose another friend?_

Merlin called to him in his mind. _Kilgharrah. _There was no response. _Kilgharrah, are you close enough to hear me? _It was like shouting into an empty cavern – you could only hear the lonely echoes. _Kilgharrah! _

He called out multiple times, until his mind felt raw and tired, but there was no response, and Merlin could feel his panic starting to bubble like Gaius's potions. The dragon was probably too far away to hear. He would be allowed to go check tomorrow night.

He knew there was no way he could wait that long.

He'd promised Gaius, but he found it hard to care as he struggled to his feet, testing his wounds (sore, but if he was careful, nothing would get busted). Then he shrugged on a jacket he'd left lying around – and it was huge on him now – and walked quietly out the door.

Percival was sleeping in the hall, and Merlin chuckled a little to himself without any mirth. _Really, now, you should try to be more subtle than that. _

He walked past the knight and down the stairs, remembering to himself the first time he'd done this – down into the cavern, holding a torch, with a giant reptile talking to him – and he'd dared to talk back. _There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot. _He'd been so sure of himself back then.

He walked out into the streets. Guinevere had night patrols, but they did not stop him. He might have sneaked a bit as he was trying to get out of the city, but it wasn't too difficult – he'd had too much practice over the years. And, with that panic still pushing him on, he went out into the woods and looked up into the sky and screamed for his dragon.

Merlin waited, and then he called again. His mouth stretched out and came out guttural; he sounded like he was roaring like a dragon himself.

Sometimes it took a while, and Merlin appreciated that. "_Dragon_!" he screamed.

He couldn't even breathe properly, and as the minutes passed he felt so weak that he just let his legs collapse under him. Merlin lay sprawled on the ground, staring at the sky, waiting. He'd told himself that he was prepared for whatever might happen. But suddenly the possibility was real. Another friend was gone, one wiser even than Merlin – someone that might have been able to tell him the truth.

Merlin felt tears swelling in his eyes.

"Come on, Kilgharrah," he whispered into the ground. "Please come."

The wind picked up – a rustling in the trees – Merlin lifted his head with hope shining in his eyes as he saw a shape moving over the moon. His heart leapt.

And then the wind settled, and the clouds stopped moving in the sky, and there was silence.

Kilgharrah did not come.

Merlin waited for two hours, watching the moon move across the sky. He wasn't sure at what point all of the hope drained out of him and left him done. He didn't remember when his wet eyes turned into sobs, or when he could no longer support himself for pain. Eventually he just lay there with tears and mucus running down his face, crying as silently as he could into the dirt ground. And suddenly he wasn't just crying for the dragon. He was crying for Arthur. He was crying for Gwaine. He was crying, even a little, for Lancelot and Elyan, and mostly he was crying for himself.

_He's not coming, Emrys. He's never coming again. _

Merlin felt the truth sink like a stone into his stomach as his tears dried and didn't come back, even though he waited for them patiently.

After a while, he stood up and began to walk back to Camelot, hiccupping and tired.

* * *

"You lost him?"

"He must have walked out."

"Either that or he's been kidnapped. Percival, you were supposed to be on watch."

"…Hard training today."

"Where do you think he got off to?"

"Wasn't too secretive. He left the door open."

Leon cursed in the dark hall and looked around. "The queen will be angry if we can't find him. We've lost an injured man who only returned several days ago after two years."

Before Percival could speak, Merlin himself walked up and interrupted them.

"Merlin!" cried Leon.

Merlin looked tired and pale and he was slouching, but smiling. "You didn't lose me. I'm back. I went for a walk. I didn't realize I was constrained to quarters or had to tell you of my whereabouts."

"You don't," Leon said, wondering if Merlin's white smile was hiding anger. Or worse, the duplicity they'd missed for so long in Agravaine and Morgana.

"Oh," said Merlin. "Besides, I didn't want Percival to follow me. Goodnight."

And then he pushed past them and went to bed, leaving them staring at each other.

* * *

When Guinevere woke up and went to visit her son, she saw that she wasn't the first person with the idea.

Leon was standing outside Arthur's room, and when she looked confused, he said, "Merlin went inside. I thought I could let him have space."

"Of course," Guinevere said.

She stepped inside, head cocked to the side, and saw Merlin sitting on the floor, with a little boy toddling around, mumbling in gibberish and handing Merlin his small wooden toys.

"Merlin?"

"Leon's outside, no worries. He and Percival have been following me."

"I know."

"I figured you did."

Merlin didn't once look at her, but just looked at Arthur, smiling in a way that made Guinevere inexplicably sorry despite its brightness. "You decided to pay Arthur a visit?" she asked, still standing on the side like a stranger.

"Yes," Merlin said. "Hey, Arthur." The baby looked over. Merlin opened his arms, and Arthur half-walked half-crawled trustingly into the warlock's arms, letting himself be hugged and making a valiant effort to hug back. Merlin pressed one bony hand into the boy's back protectively and closed his eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry the chapter disappeared, I was experiencing email difficulties! Please read and enjoy, let me know what you think - this chapter didn't go as intended, so I don't think I much care for it but at the same time, I do.**

Guinevere was overseeing the knights practicing. Leon was in charge of them now, though she was sure that before she knew it, little Arthur would be out there, swinging his sword around and defeating men soundly – just like his father. She smiled. Arthur was with his nurse right now, probably napping. She would stop by and see him later. Now, however, she had to pay attention.

Guinevere was not an accomplished swordswoman, though she had learned a bit while being queen. She still thought that just smacking the hilt against someone's head worked the best, but she'd been informed that she should never say that in educated company. She trusted Leon to train her knights well, despite his original trepidation.

"I don't think I can," he'd said.

She'd asked him why, and then laughed when he'd told her – in all honesty – that he just didn't think he could be mean enough to the men to get anything done.

"Leon," she told him, dropping his title. "I grew up with you; I know better. Pretend they're your brothers."

That had been the end of that. Leon was still not as loud or abusive towards those in training as her husband had been, but he got the job done. She had no complaints.

"Are you here to boost morale?" Merlin said, suddenly next to her, leaning against the fence that contained the action.

She laughed. "You know, back when we were teenagers, Morgana would put on her lowest cut, tightest dress, and come out here to try and distract the knights. Arthur broke a man's arm once because the knight wasn't paying attention… Morgana felt so bad about the entire thing, she nearly ripped Arthur's head off."

Merlin stiffened slightly, but Guinevere hardly noticed. For her, it was years ago, he remembered, while in his mind, he had killed Morgana scarcely days ago. He laughed too, but it sounded fake.

"No, I'm here to oversee and make sure Leon is training my knights adequately. Not that I'd know if he wasn't, even watching them."

"He's doing fine. They're good. I watched for years – even Art-hur would have been proud." She didn't see how his voice caught.

"My Arthur will be out there soon enough."

"Not for many years."

"It seems like just the other day, he couldn't even crawl."

"They say that they grow up fast."

Merlin laughed. "They do at that. Don't let him be too much like his father, though."

Guinevere watched Leon win. "I had no intention of doing so. Actually, Merlin, I was hoping you might be willing to teach him a little bit of magic, especially as he gets older."

Merlin was surprised, looking at Guinevere with lifted eyebrows. "Me?" he asked.

She actually rolled her eyes, something she didn't do much anymore. "Well, you are the most loyal and powerful warlock I can get my hands on." She looked hopeful. "What do you say?"

"You trust me to do that?"

Guinevere stared at him as though he'd grown three heads. "Unless you plan on running away on me. Of course I do. I need Arthur to show that the crown accepts magic now. And I need him to be able to protect himself."

Merlin stood up a little straighter, staring out into the courtyard. There Leon was soundly thrashing a new recruit, and Merlin caught Gwen staring at the scene and smiling. Merlin wondered if she was thinking of Leon or Arthur. "Is he in danger?" Merlin asked, and there was the sound of warning in his voice.

In Guinevere's mind, the thought of all the castles crumbling and lightning flashing that Merlin must have caused and that she must have missed surfaced. He'd always had that dangerous tone, and she'd just never noticed it. "Not now," she said. "And not directly. But we still have trouble from isolated groups – people who don't like what I'm doing, who don't like what Arthur did, or who still feel they are suffering from their failed alliance with Morgana. There is trouble sometimes."

Merlin relaxed slightly. He could deal with trouble. Then he seemed to think about her offer, long and hard, his white face drawing in on itself as he tossed the idea about. Most of his bruises were gone, but there was one on his jawline that was still discolored, though it wasn't swollen anymore. "I don't think," Merlin said at last, "that I am the right teacher – or that I will be anytime soon. Perhaps later, when he's older – but I don't think I could teach anyone in the state I'm in now."

Gwen wondered if he meant his physical state. "Merlin, I've never met a more powerful magician than I've been informed you are."

"Power needs control, Gwen," Merlin snapped, forgetting for a moment that she was the queen. "Look," he said with a sigh, and brought his hands up to this mouth. He breathed into the cups of his palms, whispering, and when he pulled away, he was holding a fistful of beautiful red, ripe strawberries.

"Strawberries," Guinevere said. She started to reach out – stopped. "May I?"

"Have them," said Merlin. "They are not poison, and they are perfectly real." She took one in her hand, and though she suddenly realized that both Leon and Percival were looking at her warily, she ate the fruit. It was the best strawberry she'd ever had – though admittedly she hadn't had many.

"This hardly seems dangerous," Guinevere said, but Merlin's face grew tight again as he shook his head.

"I shouldn't be able to _make_ strawberries," he said. "I never could before. I… I knew a girl, and she asked for them, and I couldn't even get the fruit part correct. I used to try, and I never could make them – eventually I gave up. To me, that wasn't very long ago, and so I realize that in the past two years I have learned to transport myself, and I have learned to make strawberries, but I don't remember."

"Merlin –"

"I can feel it," he said, and he was looking worked up, and Leon was starting for the fence, but Guinevere was giving him a look that promised nothing good if he didn't stay away. "I can feel the magic. It's never been this available, not since I was a toddler. I taught myself how to control it with spells, but I used to have to try two or three times to get it to work. And now it's all right there, right at the surface, and if I wanted to I think I could destroy buildings and so _I understand why you're worried about what I can do_."

There was silence. Most of the knights hadn't heard, Gwen noticed distantly. Leon had. Percival had. They needed to go back to work. As for herself, there was very little she could think to say.

"Merlin," she choked out. "I'm not worried. I trust you – I want you to teach my son."

_You want to watch me because you don't trust me. Just like Arthur didn't ever trust me, and he's dead, because I failed and whenever people do trust me, I fail…_Merlin bit his lip.

"I'd like to go visit my mother," Merlin said, catching his breath. "I wrote to her, and she wrote back asking if I could come. I can show you the letter."

"I believe you."

"Can I go?"

"You're free to, of course. Merlin, you aren't a prisoner here." Guinevere looked concerned. "If all this – so soon – if it's causing you stress, you should go. Your mother deserves to see you." She drew her eyebrows together. Her hair was long, like it had always been, and she pushed it behind herself. She knew, anyway, that Merlin didn't have to ask – he could go even if she tried to force him to stay. And she was the queen, so yes, it concerned her. But she wouldn't tell him – it wouldn't make him feel better.

"Will you ask me to take a guard with me?"

"You may go by yourself."

"But if I do, will you have Percival or Leon follow me? I'd rather have them just walking beside me than behind me, Guinevere." Merlin was calmer, but he looked sadder, and she could tell that he hadn't come to her intending on saying these things.

She wanted nothing more than to be able to grab his arm and assure him that she trusted him with her life, that _of course_ she wouldn't have him followed. She knew he wanted to hear it. It would make it easier to come into a strange new Camelot where you aren't quite feeling yourself if you were still _trusted_, wouldn't it? She wanted to say it – it wouldn't be hard. But she thought that she wanted to tell him the truth more.

"Perhaps you should take Percival with you."

Merlin bowed to her, eyes lowered, and said, "I'll be leaving tomorrow, then."

He turned to walk away without being dismissed, and Guinevere called out after him, stopping him. "When will you return?"

He paused, his back still turned, and for a terrible moment she thought he would tell her that he would never return to Camelot again. And she knew that if he were to leave his home again, she would cry. She was already too used to him being back, loving her son and talking to her like they used to talk.

Her heart stood still as he looked over his shoulder and said, "In a few days."

He walked away as the tension drained out of her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It's been a while and it's short but whatever, okay. I'm doing my best. Hopefully I'll update once more before Nanowrimo gets me.**

"Percival!"

The knight turned around to look at Leon, not at all surprised. Of course it was Leon; Percival didn't have many other friends among the knights. Who else would it be? As a matter of fact, he noted, he'd barely made any friends in the past two years. _Good thing Merlin came back; that was getting sad. _

"What is it?" he asked, wiping sweat from his face. He couldn't wait to get out of this armor and go eat lunch.

Leon caught up with him and clapped him on the shoulder as the two men started back inside the castle. "So," he said. "How do you feel about taking a short vacation?"

"What, now?"

"Starting tomorrow morning, I think. Of course, it's not really a request, and it's not really from me." Leon smiled loosely.

"I'm following Merlin?"

"You're going _with_ Merlin, actually."

"Won't he ask questions about that?"

"Oh, he knows." Leon sighed. "He and the queen had words."

"Is that what all that yelling was about," Percival commented calmly once they had deposited their swords and started for Percival's room. "Was he angry that we'd been following him?"

"Wasn't as though he didn't already know," grumbled Leon. "We've definitely lost some of our finesse."

"You mean like that time we all cornered Elyan because he'd suddenly gone crazy and I punched him in the face?"

Leon shrugged as they entered Percival's room and the larger man shrugged out of his chainmail. "We could be subtle when it counted," he argued.

Percival's laugh used to be louder. Now it was just soft and vaguely amused.

"You know," Leon said. "You've just said more than I've heard you speak in months."

Percival's mouth snapped closed.

"Sorry," said Leon. "I didn't mean that in a bad way, you know?"

Percival nodded. His jaw was set as he peeled off his sweaty shirt. "Is that all?"

Leon sighed. He hadn't meant to make his friend angry. He thought about explaining, decided nothing would make it any better, and nodded. "Yeah, that's it. Guinevere might have more to say though. I'll see you around, Percy." He clapped the big man on the shoulder and was gone.

Percival sighed and shook his head, embarrassment blooming inside of him. _Sorry, Leon, _he said inside his head, but there wasn't much to be done. He hadn't meant to react that way. He stared at the mirror hanging on his wall and tried to unclench his jaw.

* * *

"I don't think I really need this," Merlin said the next morning as Percival slid a sword into his hands. Nonetheless he strapped the belt around his middle.

"You might," Percival said with a bit of a hum. "Safety."

"I'm a warlock, Percival." Merlin said, grabbing the bag he'd packed and putting that over his back. "And I can't even use a sword very well."

Percival didn't say anything at first, which made Merlin suspect that he'd overheard more of what the warlock had told the queen than he'd care to let on. "The woods aren't always safe," he said at last. "We've been struggling with bandits and outlaws since Guinevere took over."

"The leftovers from Camlann?" Merlin asked.

"Mostly."

"Well… let's not tell Gaius we're worried about that." Merlin was standing outside the physician's rooms, for he had just said his goodbyes. "We'll be fine."

Percival nodded.

"Ready to go, then?" Merlin asked, almost chipper. His bruises were fading nicely, and as long as he didn't get too wild with physical exercise, his back would stay nice and not burn him like the sorcerer he was.

"We're taking horses," Percival said as he started for the stables, but it was really a question.

Merlin shook his head. "Tillie never came back after I left, according to Guinevere. I don't have a horse currently."

"We're walking?"

"A little bit, just until we're clear of Camelot… And then I thought I'd like to try out a bit of teleportation," Merlin said carelessly. Behind him, Percival was trying to balance his own pack while running to catch up. He'd left his blanket and food portions on his back, for which he was grateful, because apparently Merlin wasn't even going to stop by the horses.

"Teleportation," Percival responded. His voice was dead, but Merlin felt the nervousness. "You said you didn't know how."

"Yes," Merlin answered. "I've been trying it out, so I think I understand it pretty well. I teleported myself across the castle a few times yesterday. I was going to use this trip as a chance to try it on a larger scale." He made a noise in the back of his throat. "Of course, I haven't tried it with more than one person. Would've liked to wait a bit longer on that, but since I can't be trusted to leave Camelot by myself…"

Percival didn't say anything, and after a minute or so, Merlin glanced over at him, deflated. "I'm sorry," Merlin said. "I promise I'm not going to kill you because I'm annoyed. I do know what I'm doing. Well," he grinned. "You know."

"It's fine," Percival said. They were nearing the gates of Camelot now, and the men standing guard let them go without a word. Merlin, however, waved to one of them, smiling a little. It looked a bit forced.

"Unpleasant man," he told Percival once they left. "I swear I saw him kick a puppy once. Always wants to be friends with people, though. Guess he doesn't have a choice. No animals want him."

Percival was laughing now, and Merlin could sense that all was forgiven.

Merlin ambled off down the road towards the woods, ignoring the sword hanging at his side, with his head back.

"How's the magic?" Percival asked at last, suddenly curious. Merlin certainly didn't look ready to use the sword.

"I'm getting control. You know, I can do all sorts of cool things that I couldn't do two years ago… Well, about a week ago in my mind. It's like waking up and suddenly memorizing the book you fell asleep on. But I think I'm getting it all together. Why? Have I been acting weird?"

"No."

_Liar. _

Merlin kept walking, and Percival licked his lips. Time to bring it up. "I suppose you're not really worried too much," he said. "Being immortal."

Merlin only chuckled. "Yeah," he said. "I suppose I do make it out of all sorts of scrapes." He glanced over at Percival, and his eyebrows furrowed. "You were joking, weren't you?"

"Was I?"

Merlin stared at him. "Having magic doesn't make you immortal."

Percival looked back at him, and it began to sink in that Merlin didn't remember ever having claimed to be immortal. He didn't know he'd said it, and so he certainly wouldn't know why. Percival smiled at him. "Oh," he said. "That's what I get for trusting Leon."

Merlin laughed, but there was an edge to it that Percival didn't notice. All Merlin could think was: _I'm not the only one acting strange. _But just as Percival kept his thoughts to himself, so did Merlin. The warlock, instead, waved at Percival, and said, "Hurry up, when we get to the trees, I can try out the spell!"

"Oh, well, why don't we just run there, then," Percival intoned as he trudged along behind his friend.


End file.
